Harry Potter and the Battle of the Age

Chapter Three

The Trials and Tribulations of

Living at Twelve Grimmauld Place

As much as Harry may have disliked the old house, he soon settled into its familiar summer routines-- cleaning, occasionally battling the odd specimen of the Black legacy, doing his summer homework, and trying to spy on the constant flow of Order members rushing around and talking to each other in low voices. Lupin commonly popped in for a chat; but it was hardly evident that he slept in a spare room upstairs, he was so often gone. Harry once caught a glimpse of the Minister of Magic, a young but able man, before being shooed away by Mrs. Weasley. Dumbledore himself came over one afternoon and was even able to stay for tea. He wished Harry a happy birthday, since it was nearing, and spoke very jovially to Ron about the possibility of spiders nesting in his pillow, as this was what he was talking about loudly as he entered the dining room, before realizing the Headmaster was there.

This was very much like the past summer and the summer before that, except that Snape tended to hang around the place a lot more often. Rachel liked to go up to Buckbeak's room or some other obscure spot and hide whenever he was around, "just to annoy him". Harry often went with her, mainly for the same reason. It was rather satisfying to know that Snape was trying to keep them separate but not be obvious about it, and they were probably driving him mad. There was often nothing for him to do but slip away with a furious sneer.

But sometimes he could not be avoided. On the very anniversary Rachel was so dreading, she came into the kitchen in the early evening to see if she could help Mrs. Weasley with supper. Harry, who had been trying to keep her mind busy all day, followed her. When they came in, Snape was sitting at the table with Lupin and Kingsley Shacklebolt, muttering over a few pieces of ragged parchment and what looked like some sort of graph. When they came in he glanced up, and a characteristic scowl appeared on his face. Rachel met his eyes for a second, then turned to Mrs. Weasley and spoke. Mrs. Weasley had just set her to chopping carrots when Shacklebolt, Lupin, and Snape broke apart and quickly cleared away their papers.

"We had better leave this for later," Snape was saying in a normal tone of voice. "Potter has a way of overhearing things, and would surely be immediately and personally concerned..."

Harry set his jaw but didn't speak. He knew how to handle Snape. He had thought Rachel did, too, but she said,

"At least he is concerned," without taking her eyes from the carrots. Snape stopped and looked at her.

"What did you say?" he snapped. Rachel gave him a sidelong glance, then turned back to her task.

"Well, he can make himself useful when he has to, anyway. Instead of waiting for everyone else to figure things out and get going..."

Snape tensed, like an animal facing a rival, and looked sharply at her. Lupin glanced at both of them and Mrs. Weasley seemed to want to say something to Rachel, who was chopping with more force and rather dangerously.

"He'll more likely put a friend in danger then save him from it," Snape said sleekly, stepping closer to her.

"...as you ought to know," he added in a quieter, poisonous voice.

Harry let out a short, wordless cry of anger; Lupin, Shacklebolt, and Mrs. Weasley all seemed to think he had gone too far, and Rachel's knife finally slipped. But before she even noticed the blood on her finger she turned her head and was looking at Snape straight in the eyes.

"Funny, I thought I had you to thank for that!" she snapped. "That and the great skull floating above my house, I've been meaning to--"

With a furious yell Snape was upon her. He grabbed her arm and wrenched her around so she almost fell, and shoved her against the wall.

"Don't you ever speak to me like that!" he shouted in her face. Lupin cried "Severus!" and moved to stop Harry, who loudly called him something else, from jumping on him. Mrs. Weasley screamed softly. Snape allowed himself to be pulled away from Rachel by Shacklebolt, but then wrenched his arm from his grasp.

"If you ever--"

"That's enough!" Lupin said firmly. Harry's throat felt tight with anger.

"Sure thing, Nicholas," Rachel said cuttingly.

"What did you call me?" Snape roared, rushing toward her again, and Shacklebolt got in front of him with his hands on Snape's chest and shoulder. "Who spoke to her?" Snape spat, sounding even angrier. "Who?"

Harry stepped toward Rachel.

"You stay where you are!" he barked at Snape.

"Don't you dare give me orders, Potter-- get the hell away from her!" Snape yelled.

"Enough!" Lupin shouted again. His wand was out. "Severus, get out!" he commanded shortly. Snape's lip curled and he hissed maliciously,

"How dare you threaten me, werewolf!"

"God help me, I'll call Dumbledore and embarrass you a hell of a lot more than this!" Lupin hollered, getting pale, but not nearly as ashen as Snape or Rachel. His voice was throat-rippingly loud and deep. Harry had never seen him quite like this. Snape stood, quivering with anger, and held the longest pause Harry felt he had ever heard. At last, he looked back at Rachel, still against the wall, and said,

"I'm not through with you... put it away, Lupin. Save it for the full moon."

And he turned on his heel and swept out the door. Lupin closed his eyes, then lowered his wand. Mrs. Weasley was still frozen.

"Rachel..." Lupin said, a bit tiredly. Rachel looked steadily down at the floor. Tears welled silently in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, very quietly. Her eyes remained firmly planted on the floor. Lupin sighed.

"It's alright," he said shortly, moving to the table and picking up the papers. Then he tuned and said,

"Don't provoke him, Rachel."

She nodded.

"I mean it--" Lupin cut himself short with a slight bow of his head. He put a hand on Rachel's arm.

"I-- I know what day it is... I'm sorry."

She took a quavering breath and Lupin gently gripped her shoulder. Then he and Shacklebolt both left.

The room was very silent for a moment. Harry heard the door creak and Ron and Hermione stepped into the kitchen with wide eyes.

"What was that all about?" said Ron, shell-shocked.

"Ronald... come and help me with this chicken," Mrs. Weasley said, her voice almost a whisper.

"We heard--"

"Ronald!"

Harry shook his head at Ron and mouthed "Later" to him. Rachel turned back to her cutting board with a stony face. Mrs. Weasley patted her awkwardly on the back as she went to get some potatoes from the pantry. Harry glanced at her but didn't know what to say.

***

The next afternoon, Harry found Ron and Hermione sniping at each other in the drawing room, Mrs. Weasley tidying up the attic, her eldest son Bill, who was visiting, protecting her, and even the busy Mr. Weasley stopping by for lunch, but Rachel was nowhere to be found. Remembering the previous night's events, he became rather worried.

"Oh, she's off with her brothers today, love," Mrs. Weasley said when he finally brought it up. He thought she sounded a bit odd, although it may have been the strangely thick and somewhat purplish dust hanging about the place. "Would you be a dear and hand me that duster there, the heavy one with the spike... thank you..."

With nothing better to do, Harry offered to help, but Mrs. Weasley was decidedly nervous about the attic and its contents, and insisted he remain in the (slightly) safer rooms of the house. She didn't want him attacked by the lampshades like Hermione was the previous week.

"Oh, but Harry..." Mrs. Weasley moved aside some pointed umbrellas and an old-fashioned warlock's hat and handed him something.

"I thought you might... want this."

Harry looked at the picture frame in his hand. It was old and chipped, but the man in the picture behind the dusty frame looked fresh and healthy. It was Sirius, apparently taken during the short period of time the year before when he was happy... it must have been Christmas. Harry vaguely remembered Mundungus Fletcher running around with an ancient, probably ill-gotten camera nobody thought worked. Sirius was holding a garland he was about to hang over a window and smiling jovially, apparently surprised by the camera. He had been in a permanent cheerful mood that month, the only time Harry ever saw him like that.... He suddenly set the photo down, a bit harder than he intended to, on a trunk nearby.

"That's okay," he said shortly, and went downstairs before Mrs. Weasley could say anything.

Harry had recently taken to his old habit of wandering. He slipped alone down a dusty hallway in a particularly neglected section of the house. Suddenly, he was extremely angry; his chest was tight with frustration, his head was hot and red, and his muscles tensed. He felt unexpectedly trapped; he wanted to be out of this stupid house, he was going to explode if he didn't get some distance. He couldn't stop himself from letting out a small noise, somewhere between a squeal and a grunt, and he kicked the wall, hard. Then, as quickly as it came, the aggravation was gone, and Harry just felt limp and depressed. Thoughts of Sirius he worked so hard to keep away drifted back to him like smoke, but he pushed them from his mind. Remembering something from the previous year, he took a deep breath and tried not to feel anything. He wondered if he could think about him for a bit... he sort of wanted to see him again... but the rush of feelings that accompanied his image was too much. Harry shoved them out more forcefully and blanked himself again. After a few minutes, the feelings were gone. Harry was left with a sort of emptiness he thought would've been refreshing, but couldn't shake a lingering, vague melancholy. He sighed and went back to the front room when he heard a slight commotion.

Rachel was back, standing in front of the fireplace with a damp ponytail and an old T-shirt.

"How are you... feeling?" Hermione was asking her softly. She had stayed up with her the night before when she cried. Rachel smiled gratefully.

"I'm better... thanks," she said.

"How were Chris and Ian?" Harry asked her.

"Chris and Ian?" she repeated.

"Weren't you just at Chris' flat?" Hermione said, giving her a puzzled look.

"Oh-- oh, right... Chris had some things to take care of, so I mostly just hung out with Ian," Rachel said. Mrs. Weasley came through the doorway with a dusty rag and spotted Rachel.

"How did it go?" she asked with a huge smile. Rachel grinned back.

"Oh-- pretty well, I think..."

They both sounded excited. Rachel laughed a little and gave a small shrug.

"What's going on?" Ron demanded.

"I-- I ran around after a three-year-old all day and I didn't get tired!" Rachel said quickly. "And I even Apparated back..."

"Why are you all sweaty?"

"You Apparated all the way-- here?" Mrs. Weasley said, worried. "That's a bit far..."

"I thought Chris' new flat was just across London?" Harry said.

"I mean, I went from there to a place sort of in between, and then a bit closer, and after a couple times I just got here..."

"Oh, that's not so bad..."

"What are you two talking about?" Ron insisted. There was a pause.

"Chris wants to come for dinner; is that alright, Mrs. Weasley?" Rachel broke it with.

"Of course, dear," she said. "I hope he likes pork chops."

"Right... I'm going to go change, then," said Rachel, still unusually cheerful.

"Wait!" Ron called after her. "I thought you took your broomstick this morning?"

Harry followed Rachel up the stairs.

"Hey-- what's wrong?" she said when she saw him.

"Uh-- nothing..." Rachel did not look convinced. "Er-- how are Chris and Ian?" Harry said quickly, not in the mood to talk. "I mean, is everything... okay?"

"Oh, that... yeah, it's fine," Rachel said, relieved. "Chris was just... stressed, that time... of course Ian's going to stay with him... and we got to talk a little last night; we're both... coming along..." She sighed a bit, but not unhappily, then closed her eyes and stretched her arms above her head. Harry stood in front of her door, in a shadow from a boarded window. She was in the doorframe, backlit.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look..."

Harry cut her off.

"I'm fine."

Rachel smiled uncertainly.

"I just wanted to... see if you were," Harry persisted.

"Okay..." Rachel said. "I'm just going to change..."

Harry nodded and walked toward his own room. Rachel looked after him, then slowly shut the door.

***

That night, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Rachel, and her brothers all drifted into the drawing room after doing the dishes. Chris was muttering something about strangling Snape, Ron was half-friendly-teasing and half-fighting-with Hermione, Rachel was playing with Ian, and Harry was feeling rather sorry for himself because he felt left out. Ron suddenly looked at Rachel suspiciously, and, ignoring Hermione's stepping on his foot, suddenly asked Chris,

"So, what did you and Rachel do today?"

"She didn'-- we just stayed home," Chris almost slipped up, but caught himself. Rachel gave Ron a rather smug smile.

"Just like I said..." she remarked innocently.

"That wasn't Rachel," little Ian said. "That was Chris' girlfriend."

Chris glared at the boy, who giggled, while Rachel raised her eyebrows and smiled.

"Really, now... must've been after I left... who was this, Chris?"

"Nobody you know!" Chris said pointedly, shaking his head in a patronizing fashion at his younger sister and grinning.

"Uh-huh!" Ian insisted. "She's that lady who's here sometimes and--"

"Ian!" Chris said sharply.

"She's an Order member?" Rachel said, delighted with this new information. "Who's young enough here for you to date...?"

"I think it's about time to go now..." Chris said, hoisting Ian over one shoulder and heading for the door. Rachel leapt in his way and stood in front of the door.

"Christopher Isaac Connor!" she said. Harry laughed, watching her, and wondered if this was what she was like at home.

"Rachel..." Chris tried to look intimidating, with a laughing toddler slung on his back and red cheeks, but he was chuckling. "Don't..."

"What, you can't admit you undying love for... Mrs. Figg?"

Laughter rang to the dusty rafters. Chris raised his eyes to the sky.

"It's Hestia Jones, maybe..." Hermione said.

"Ginny Weasley," Harry offered in a normal tone, trying not to smile. He glanced at Ron. Hermione was thrilled.

"That isn't funny!" Ron snapped back to seriousness instantly.

"Only teasing, man..."

"Tonks..." Rachel suggested, then gave a slightly crazed shriek. "It's Tonks! It is, isn't it!"

Chris moved his mouth wordlessly and looked to the ground, unable to stop grinning.

"Ian! Is she that funny lady with cool hair who can make her nose change?" Rachel demanded, scampering around her older brother to look the younger one in the face.

"Uh-huh!" Ian said cheerfully. Chris shook his head and laughed quietly, promising Ian that he was going to be hung from the ceiling fan immediately upon returning home.

Rachel's ecstatic laughter, Chris' blush, and the general homey feeling in the old house cheered Harry up considerably for a while. He did, however, after glancing at the empty portrait over his bed and listening to the rain that night, decide to practice Occlumency before he went to sleep. He told himself it was a safety precaution against Voldemort.

Chapter Four

Growing Up Gryffindor

The rest of the summer passed without major incident. Ginny returned near the end of July to a very cheerful group at Grimmauld Place, except Ron, who tended to become rather spiteful whenever his younger sister was spotted with anyone of the opposite sex. Then August seemed to come extraordinarily quickly, and before Harry knew it, he was facing his final year at Hogwarts. In between the usual flurry of packing clothes and new books and potion kits, he found he was rather sad to be leaving.

"Hey, at least you got a full seven years," Rachel said a couple of weeks before the end of the summer. "I'm probably going to cry when we have to leave, and I've only been going for a year..."

"Graduation isn't the part you should be worried about... we have N.E.W.T.s this year!" Ron groaned.

"I'm rather looking forward to them," Hermione chimed in from across the hall, leaning into the doorway. "We'll finally get to--"

"Don't finish that sentence, Hermione. Do you realize this is the last summer vacation we'll ever have?" Ron said. Hermione rolled her eyes and didn't speak to him for the rest of the evening.

The next day, their school booklists came. Hermione tore hers open enthusiastically.

"What, they're just books..." Ron said, staring at her like she was some sort of strange being he couldn't understand.

"Ron, they choose Head Boy and Girl this year!" Hermione said with an equal amount of amazement that he wasn't thrilled.

"Oh, yeah..." Ron gulped, going grey in the face. Harry watched him open his letter while paying no attention to his own. Hermione gave a small gasp when a badge tumbled out of her letter. Harry turned back to Ron. His envelope was open-- and he was looking at his letter dumbly. Harry felt something in his hand and looked down. It had fallen out of his own envelope. Harry took a few moments to realize that he had gotten a Head Boy badge.

Harry froze-- what? Wasn't Ron supposed to-- was there some mistake? He flipped his envelope over and saw his own name staring back at him. Ron looked up.

"Oh," he said. The flatness in his voice was horrible.

"Ron, did you-- oh," Hermione said, realizing. She looked from Ron to the badge in Harry's hand, then back to Ron again. Ron put down his booklist and gave a small nod that was as horrible as his voice. Harry didn't know what to say.

"All right... good job, you two," Ron said, then he pounded up the stairs to his bedroom. Harry stared at the badge, taking in the large HB embossed in gold, on a background of red and the Gryffindor lion. He was Head Boy?

Aware of everyone else's stares, Harry put the badge in his pocket and folded up his letter.

"Um... I'm going to go... check something..."

Equally aware that everyone saw through his flimsy excuse, Harry tripped up the stairs and went to his and Ron's door. He knocked, but got no answer. He went in anyway. Ron was sitting on his bed, reading Harry's Flying with the Cannons.

"Hey..." Harry said cautiously.

"Hey," Ron replied, but without looking up.

"Um..." Harry wasn't sure if he was going to offend Ron by speaking. "Listen... er..."

"It's okay," Ron said automatically.

"I-- huh?"

Ron sighed.

"You got the badge. I didn't. I was there."

Harry almost winced at his blunt words. It wasn't his fault... but he didn't want to get angry at Ron and make things worse.

"Look, I don't know what happened; I'm-- I'm sorry. I don't know why I got the stupid thing," Harry barged on, a bit recklessly. "I mean... Dumbledore's probably trying to make me control myself better, or something--"

"Don't try to make me feel better, Harry!" Ron snapped. Harry refused to let anything flare up inside him and looked down.

"Sorry," he said. Maybe he had sounded patronizing. Ron sat for a few seconds in silence, then sighed frustratedly.

"Sorry," he spat.

"It's okay..." Harry said. Then Ron looked guilty.

"I wasn't looking forward to the job anyway," he said after a pause, although he still sounded flat and dejected. "Running around after the dumb first years as a prefect was bad enough."

"Yeah... I'll probably end up in McGonagall's office all the time, trying to explain why some second year got his fingers blown off trying to Transfigure a needle while I was supposed to be babysitting him..." Harry said. Ron grinned halfheartedly.

"Um... I'm going to go check out my booklist..." Harry said. He figured Ron wanted to be alone. Ron didn't object.

Harry felt rather guilty about the whole thing... he remembered how happy Ron was when he had a prefect's badge. Something Hermione had said to him years ago flew into his mind... "He's always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it..." Harry was vaguely annoyed-- it wasn't his fault-- but wouldn't let himself snap at Ron; he probably felt much worse than he, Harry. Ron was a bit distant for a few days, but Harry didn't interfere, or bring up the badges. He also remembered when it was Ron who was prefect instead of Harry, and he had gone through stages of anger and guilt and whatnot in his own mind. Within a few days the two were cautiously friendly again, but neither of them spoke of the Head Boy badges.

***

His last night at Grimmauld Place, Harry lay in bed reading over a book of Quidditch tactics he had bought at Diagon Alley, trying to find some new plays for the Gryffindor team. Ginny and Hermione were chatting in the girls' room, but Rachel was curled at the foot of Harry's bed looking at her class list while Ron sat at the window, trying to catch a last breath of summer air.

"So, Ron," Rachel said, tossing the list on Harry's empty bedside table. "How was the last summer of your childhood?" She grinned.

"It really is, you know," Ron prickled. "After this year we have to... start the rest of our -- our lives... y'know, get flats, start a career..." He trailed off. Rachel looked up.

"Having a little crisis, Ron?" she asked, concerned. "Don't worry about that-- people do it all the time, I guess..."

"Yeah, I know," Ron said quickly. "It's fine, really."

"What are you going to look into after this year, anyway?" Rachel asked curiously.

"Oh, I--it all depends on my grades, really, I--I don't know."

"Come on, tell us!"

"Well--" Ron hesitated. "I was having a lot of fun playing Quidditch, but... that's not really something I could really do for a living; you have to be really good... so... I was kind of looking into the Department of Magical Games and Sports," he finished quickly. "I'd get to organize games and teams, and work with the players and do public relations, and... stuff..."

"Ron Weasly, shut up in a Ministry office?" said Harry laughingly. "Actually, I think that's a pretty good idea..."

"Yeah," Rachel said. "You're good with people; you could help coordinate games, and run tournaments... that would be pretty cool."

Ron grinned.

"Yeah, I thought it might work," he said. "I've seen the office with Dad, and I've read about it... it looks pretty good. What about you?"

"Healer," Rachel replied softly. "I mean, if I get the grades. I'd like to do something with kids... there was a really nice Healer at the hospital I went to when I was five and I broke my wrist playing Shuntbumps. It would be nice to help little kids like that... what about you, Harry?"

"An Auror," Harry responded. "I'll have to work hard, though... the grades, again..."

"That would be perfect for you," Rachel said seriously. Harry nodded.

"I guess so..."

Harry had begun to realize that he was making a choice that would affect the rest of his life. But he truly wanted to be an Auror, now... if he could get rid of Voldemort, and then others like him... he had thought about other careers, but this always ended up seeming clear to him as what he wanted to do with his life. He could protect people...

Before Harry became too deep and philanthropic, Mrs. Weasley called up to turn off the lights and get into bed. Harry and Ron bid Rachel good night and settled into the dark and silent room.

***

The next morning seemed to dawn much earlier than the previous mornings. Harry thought he had just closed his eyes when Ron was cursing his owl, Pig, Hermione was looking for one of her many extra-curricular books, Ginny was wandering around with her nightgown on under her skirt, and Rachel was looking for her small cat.

"Get up, now, you lot, let's get a move on," Mrs. Weasley's voice was saying from downstairs. "We're going to miss the train..."

Another brief whirlwind ensued and Harry suddenly found himself standing in the foyer of the old house while Mrs. Weasley fussed over each of them in turn. When they were ready to leave, in what seemed like simultaneously a very short time and a very long time, Harry was the last to go out the door. He paused and turned.

He had spent so many days at this house... Sirius had been happy here... but hardly ever. Harry was suddenly repulsed by the rotting walls, the filthy carpet, the dark corners and freakish things lunging out of nowhere whenever he just wanted to cross a corridor; Sirius had hated it here! He had to live stuck among his horrible parents' decaying memories, evil pasts so disgustingly gloated over, and Harry was trapped there too, where the only family-- real family-- he ever had had been caged and tormented and driven near mad, before he was killed....

Harry felt like he was leaving the place forever; and he was glad. He slammed the door shut fiercely and caught Rachel's eye. She looked anxious and gave him a questioning gaze. Harry knew she had been worrying for him lately, but he avoided her eye and ducked by her without a word.

***

The group reached King's Cross Station about ten minutes before the Hogwarts Express was scheduled to leave. Mrs. Weasley let them through the stone barrier into platform

9 ¾ in pairs and they all boarded just as the shrill whistle was blowing. Harry edged into a compartment in just enough time to wave goodbye, then he was speeding toward his final year at Hogwarts.

When he and Ron pulled their heads out of the window, they sat back on their chairs and began talking to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Tomas, whom they shared the compartment with.

"Yeah, I can remember when we were little first years on this train for the very first time," Seamus said reminiscently, glancing fondly around the compartment. "We were titchy little things, just kids, really..."

Harry did feel rather old (and tall) as a group of second years scurried past their window.

"Mm-hmm... but hey, we're seventh years!" Dean said, giving Seamus a high-five. "Lords over all we survey..."

"Who're Head Boy and Girl this year?" Seamus asked. "Will they let us get a... a proper amount of respect from the underclassmen?"
Ron looked out the window.

"Gotta be you, right, Hermione?" Dean nodded at her.

"Oh-- well... yes," Hermione replied, a bit taken aback.

"And Head Boy... could be Ernie Macmillan, that Hufflepuff bloke, right? Eh, he wouldn't be much fun..."

"Or maybe Anthony Goldstein, that Ravenclaw... he's alright..."

Harry looked uncomfortably from Ron to Hermione to the Gryffindors across from him. Ron was slumped slightly in his seat, but then, that may've been his posture. His expression was neutral. Harry figured sadly that Ron would have to get used to the fact that Harry was Head Boy and the school was going to know. Harry cleared his throat and said quietly,

"Er... actually, it's, ah... it's me."

Seamus and Dean sat stunned for a moment, then Seamus pumped his fist into the air.

"Yes!" he shouted. "Head Boy and Girl are both Gryffindors... you'll give out loads of detentions to the Slytherins, right?"

"No!" Hermione replied, genuinely shocked.

"Why not?" said Seamus, crestfallen and equally shocked.

"If we abused our position... we... for one thing, it wouldn't be fair!" Hermione sputtered. "And if we were impeached... that would be the most shameful thing... only three Head Boys have had to give up their badges in the entire history of Hogwarts, and only one Head Girl!"

"Alright, alright... keep your shirt on," Seamus muttered.

"Then again, two years from now the only people who would know you were impeached would be the people who read Hogwarts, A History, so I think your reputation would be safe... " Ron said.

"And they would have to reprint and everything for you to even be mentioned," Rachel pointed out. Hermione looked horrified at the idea of being recorded forever in a specially printed Hogwarts, A History as a corrupted Head Girl.

"Well, there's also Prefects Who Gained Power..." Ron sad, alluding to the mind-numbingly dull book that was a favourite of his brother Percy's. "You might be mentioned there as a sort of example."

"Ron!" Hermione said, upset. "Stop it!"

"I was only joking, Hermione; you know you're never going to--"

"Don't do that; it's not funny!"

"All right!" Ron said, throwing up his hands to stop her. They both gave similar sighs of exasperation. Rachel shifted uncomfortably in her seat and the boys exchanged glances. The silence was broken by a cheerful hoot from Pig, whom Rachel's young cat Sprite eyed interestedly.

"D'you think a tiny owl like that could win a fight with a really mean Snitch?" Rachel asked thoughtfully. "I mean, they're really fast and they can turn on a dime, but Pig has a buggardly sharp little beak..."

Everyone in the compartment stared at her, then Harry said slowly,

"Well, a sharp beak couldn't do much against a metal Snitch, could it?"

"But the Snitch doesn't have any way to attack, except maybe to collide with it..." Dean added.

"That's true..."

This slightly off discussion lead to others and neatly steered clear of Ron and Hermione's fighting. Around noon, just after the plump witch with the food cart had sold Harry the usual load of sandwiches and sweets to share, Luna Lovegood wandered into their compartment.

"Hey, Luna," Rachel said. "How was your summer?"

"Very good," Luna replied in her usual dream-like manner. "I got to go with Dad on another expedition; we went to Bolivia and I saw a Great Fanged Windle-Dasher with my own eyes."

"Er... good..."

"What did it look like?" Harry asked.

"It was rather terrifying, really," Luna said conversationally. "The fangs must have been two feet long-- Dad says that means it was a female-- and its fur was so spiky it looked like a great hedgehog zipping through the jungle, but it was huge, and deep blue..." Luna's eyes began to grow wide as she described in detail the claws of the Great Fanged Windle-Dasher. Harry glanced at Ron to hide his grin, and saw him look sharply at Hermione.

"Be nice!" he said severely, low so that Luna couldn't hear him. Hermione looked shocked, then furious, that he had spoken to her like that. Harry turned very quickly back to Luna and pretended he didn't hear the two whispering an argument. Luna had just finished her story.

"How about yours?" she asked Rachel. "You look different... are you so pale because you had the Cruciatus Curse done to you so many times?"

Rachel looked surprised for a second, her mouth open slightly. Then she closed it and said calmly,

"Ah, yes, they... they told me that was why."

"I don't really know what happened to you; all I heard was how Professor Snape had to carry you the hospital wing and you were very weak for a long time. Those curses must have been very painful. I hope you're all right," she continued sincerely.

"Um-- yes, thank you... I'm okay now."

Seamus and Dean both looked quickly to Harry, at the same time. He saw the question in their eyes and shook his head. Luna turned to Ron and Hermione.

"What are you two fighting about?" she asked innocently. Rachel was looking after her with a slightly stunned, but not angry expression.

"Never you mind," Hermione said roughly.

"Okay," Luna said, unfazed, and turned to ask Dean about his summer. Rachel now carried a fascinated air and a smile.

When the sky streaking past their windows turned from deep blue to inky purple and gold, the girls left the compartment to change into their school robes. Harry pulled on his own, brand new from Madam Malkin's, and discreetly pinned on his Head Boy badge. It felt odd to be wearing it. He heard voices outside the compartment. When he recognized one of them, Harry got to his feet and threw open the door.

Draco Malfoy was standing outside the compartment in Rachel's face; from her look and Hermione's behind her he had just finished some rude comment. When he felt the door behind him move, Malfoy turned and sneered at Harry.

"Well, well, if it isn't Pothead... how was your summer, Harry? Holed up with Connor for three months, eh? Nice..." He gave him a wink and Crabbe and Goyle sniggered and whistled.

"Shut it, Malfoy; don't you talk like that about her!" Harry snapped. "No need to ask how yours went; did you have to bail your dad out of jail again, or did you spend the whole time listening to his mates brag about their latest murders?"

Malfoy's cold grey eyes narrowed.

"Nice, Potter, how long did it take you to think up that one?"

Harry grinned in a way that he was sure would annoy him and shifted his weight so that his Head Boy badge showed prominently.

"It's just the first thing I think of when I see you, Malfoy..."

Malfoy's face soured, and Harry knew he noticed the badge, too. Harry took Rachel's arm and led her into the compartment calmly, shutting it in Malfoy's face after Hermione. Luna, who had entered a few moments before, said,

"He's really very rude, isn't he? Perhaps he's jealous of you, Harry."

"That's what I'm hoping," Harry said with a grin.

Shortly after the sun had disappeared below the blackened landscape, the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station and grinded to a halt. Harry was soon out in the night, breathing the familiar air of Hogwarts. For the first time since he had been coming here, it was not raining, which added an odd stillness to the atmosphere even as students bustled around, dragged their trunks, called to their friends, and Hagrid summoned the first years. Harry climbed into the last old carriage with Rachel, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville, and they rumbled off toward the castle.

"So this is how you get to the castle when you're not an ickle firstie..." Rachel mused, looking around the carriage. Then she inhaled harshly. Harry had felt it, too. There was a jolt, and the seat underneath him tilted. Hermione yelped.

"What was that?" Ron said sharply. They were still moving; Harry instinctively grabbed the armrest. Neville yelled, sounding slightly panicky, as the carriage turned roughly and everyone tumbled a bit to the right. Harry looked out the window. He saw a few stars, a turret of the castle flew by, and the tops of some trees of the Forbidden Forest... tops of trees?

"Are we in the air?" Ginny gasped.

"Oh my... the thestral took off!" Hermione said as she scrambled to the window.

"These things are pulled by thestrals?" Rachel asked interestedly. Harry was confused. Where was it going? Suddenly, there was an even sharper jolt, and they were all thrown

onto the wall nearest to Ron. One of the girls screamed. They were tossed around roughly some more, into the front of the carriage, onto the floor, onto Harry. Everything was an uncomfortable blur of elbows and weight crashing painfully against everyone, as owls screeched and Sprite and Crookshanks yowled in their cages. Harry was kneed in the cheek by Ginny, and Neville smashed everybody a few times. Hermione gave a cry of pain and Ron shouted "Are you okay?" She nodded dumbly, holding her side. Harry tried to stop pinning Rachel against the bench, but they were thrown wildly again and she was suddenly lying across his knees. Then, as suddenly as it all began, everything stopped. With a final bump the coach steadied and weight seemed to be pulled toward the ground once more. There were a few groans and they all tried to disentangle themselves from the confused pile of living bodies. Suddenly the carriage doors swung open and Professor McGonagall stood in front of them, looking very relieved. She held the door open and motioned for them to all come out, asking repeatedly if anyone was hurt. When she was finally satisfied that none of them were, Harry saw that they stood on the front lawn and the other carriages were lined neatly against the wall, empty.

"What happened, Professor?" he asked as Neville helped Ginny to her feet.

"The thestral that is pulling your carriage is doing so for the first time," she replied briskly. "We had to use some that were not quite fully trained, as a couple more experienced animals simply disappeared a few terms ago... odd. It took off after what looked like an owl. Now, follow me, and hurry, before we miss the Sorting."

They clamored into her own carriage, which was slightly larger than the rest, and soon they were in front of the castle. Professor McGonagall led them to the large, heavy doors of the Great Hall and pushed them open. Harry glanced around awkwardly. In front of them was a long line of scared first years. Tiny Professor Flitwick looked up from the long piece of parchment he was reading from and paused. Neville fidgeted uncomfortably as all eyes turned to them. Snape glared at Harry and Rachel from the staff table.

"My apologies, Headmaster," Professor McGonagall said clearly, her voice ringing through the hall. "We had a little problem with a thestral pulling one of the carriages."

"Of course, Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore said graciously. "Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville, please take your seats at the Gryffindor table and we'll continue the Sorting."

He nodded to Professor Flitwick, who called "Carlson, Willa!" up to the front of the Hall to put on the ancient Sorting Hat. A few people from Harry's year budged over to make room for him and the others and Willa was sent to the Ravenclaw table among thunderous applause.

"Hey, Harry!" said sixth year Colin Creevey, who had grown over the summer; he now sat with his head slightly above Harry's shoulder. "Wow-- Head Boy!"

"Hi, Colin..." Harry said, and was saved by clapping for "Danner, Andrew!" as he slipped gratefully to the Gryffindor table.

Much to Ron's delight, the Sorting was over fairly quickly, and Dumbledore stood up from his place at the centre of the staff table. He looked around the Great Hall impressively, with a serious face.

"There is important business to discuss, concerning briefing our new, very promising students," he said slowly. "And some reminders to those returning to us. There are announcements to make, warnings to issue, and congratulations to give. However," he paused, surveying the student body again. Harry caught Lupin's eye and grinned. "This is not the time for that. This is the time to eat. Dig in!"

The new students gasped and cheered as the usual great platters of food appeared, steaming, in front of them. Conversations about summers and three months' worth of gossip buzzed up immediately.

"Small crowd this year, eh?" said a sixth year next to Harry.

"Yeah, really," said Colin, glancing around.

"Well, people are getting scared to send their kids off with a bunch of strangers," Seamus said across from them. "There are smaller classes at most schools, right?"

"There are," Hermione said. "It's the Death Eaters... things are looking risky again. The Daily Profit says that some schools are almost halved, where a lot of Dark activity is going on."

Seamus shook his head darkly and speared a bit of onion on his fork.

"It's not stopping there, either..."

Harry looked down at his plate and said nothing. He noticed the conversations around him were a bit darker than usual.

"This Muggle saw him with his own eyes, and the article said he hasn't been found yet..."

"No way! In your own neighbourhood?"

"My brother didn't want to come back here..."

Harry sighed. He was thankful, for once, when the topic moved on to N.E.W.T.s.

"Fred and George said they're hell," Ron said. "Of course, they never took them..."

"They are," Rachel said matter-of-factly.

"How do you know?"

"They are," replied Rachel, Dean, Seamus, and a seventh-year Ravenclaw who had come for the butter.

Soon the steak-and-kidney pie and stew had disappeared, and the platters were once again filled, this time with cakes, pies, tarts, and ice cream. The resident ghost of Gryffindor, Nearly Headless Nick, came swooping down to their section of the table.

"Hi, Nick," Rachel called. She had a developed a liking for him.

"Hello, hello, good evening to you all," said Nick cordially. "My, now, all seventh years, eh? I can remember when you were all as frightened of me as these ones here..." As he jerked his head toward a couple of first years down the table, it flopped onto his shoulder and they stared. "Bloody neck..." he muttered as he secured the ruff around his collar and steadied his head. "I must be off... welcome back, you all, have a good final year..."

"Bye, Nick..."

The desserts were eaten even faster than the dinner, and Hermione could be heard telling a wide-eyed first year,

"House-elves do all of this, you know; work all day without pay or break just for this feast, and then they cook and clean thanklessly all year..."

Dumbledore raised his hand for silence and Hermione hissed for the first year to look her up when they got to the common room. The huge Great Hall was hushed.

"And now, it is time to speak. Firstly, please note that for the first time in six years, we have a returning Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher-- Professor Remus Lupin."

There was more than a smattering of applause.

"Yes, congratulations to Professor Lupin," Dumbledore said as it died down. "On a more serious note, the routine announcements must be made to our newcomers-- The Forbidden Forest along the grounds is, as the name implies, off-limits to all students under all circumstances, and because of the dangers of the place punishments for trespassing there will grow more serious by the day. Our caretaker, Mr. Argus Filch, has asked me to remind you that 'you'll be the death of him soon if you don't bother to take a single bloody moment to wipe your feet before you get into the castle,' and many other things in that vein I'm sure you can imagine on your own. Please, students-- the castle is awfully large for one man to have to care for alone; be tidy. Quidditch tryouts will take place in three weeks; see your common room noticeboards then for details. Finally," Dumbledore's voice grew solemn again. "It is well known that the wizarding world is becoming a very turbulent and dangerous place. I want to assure you all that you are perfectly safe here; no harm will befall you while Hogwarts stands. It will not be denied that there is a great evil among us now, and a great battle to come..." Dumbledore paused and let his reassuring glance fall on the most scared-looking students. "... but Hogwarts is perhaps the safest possible place to be at this time. In the rest of the community, we have a very dedicated and able team of Aurors and Magical Law Enforcement Officers. Here at school, we are protected by the most ancient of enchantments, and even if the unthinkable happens, there are plans in place to get every student to safety as quickly as possible. Our teachers are very trained and capable, as well. I look to you all now-- to unite. It is unstable enough without petty political and family differences within the school; help us make Hogwarts even more of a haven. I look to our new Head Boy and Girl--" Dumbledore looked straight at Harry and Hermione, who met his gaze with a sudden obedience and loyalty-- "to lead and set an example for us all. There are trying times ahead. Remain strong, remain calm. At Hogwarts you are safe." Dumbledore took a deep breath, and his face relaxed somewhat. "And now, if the prefects could please lead the new students to their dormitories. Lights out in half an hour. Good night!"

Harry got up and looked around. There was even more buzzing about Dumbledore's speech. Harry knew now what he wanted him to do as Head Boy, and fervently hoped he could live up to Dumbledore's expectations. He took a breath and traced the border of his badge absently.

Back in the dormitories, however, the effective tranquilizer of a Hogwarts feast took full effect on the boys, and was Harry asleep shortly after rolling onto his bed in the circular room that now read "Seventh Years".